


Dry

by stardropdream



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle, xxxHoLic
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:44:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fay lands in a world before the rest of his companions, and is left in the care of one Kunogi Himawari.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dry

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ April 15, 2008.

“Here,” Himawari says pleasantly as she sets down a teacup in front of her newly arrived houseguest. “I hope you like jasmine tea. It’s all we had.”  
  
Fay picks up the cup slowly and inhales. It is a shame, really, that he cannot truly drink and enjoy this tea. The steam from the cup curls up over his face and he blinks his one eye blearily.  
  
He doesn’t know very much Japanese, but the six months stranded with Kurogane without Mokona had taught him enough things to get around without bumbling like a newly learned toddler. He tries not to think about those times, when there had been a semblance of closeness between the two of them. For the most part, he just tries not to think of the ninja.  
  
“Thank you, Himawari-chan,” Fay says agreeably. “It smells delicious.”  
  
Himawari smiles softly. Fay recognizes that smile all too well. She takes a step back.  
  
Himawari excuses herself from the table and retreats to the kitchen. Fay watches her go and then sets the tea cup down on the table, untouched. She retreats and he sits, watching her calmly with one blue eye trained on her back and the strange, swirling aura that surrounds her. He isn’t one to be inhospitable, especially to a perfectly friendly girl, but the entire room he’s sitting in makes him uneasy. And it isn’t hard to figure out just why that is.  
  
He swirls a finger along the edge of the teacup, his eye hooded thoughtfully. This is the second time where he’s been in a world and been unable to communicate properly. He’d landed in this world on his own, ahead of the others, it would appear. He’d landed in a park and, of course, the witch of dimensions was there to greet him. The raindrops didn’t touch her as Fay stared up at her from his position on the muddy ground, smiling and understanding just why the woman was appearing before him in another dimension.  
  
She’d made arrangements for him to stay with Himawari. It would not do for him to stay with Yuuko, for obvious reasons. Fay didn’t want to pay the price for it, anyway. Himawari was the candidate chosen, though Fay was not sure of the reasons. The magic in this house was strong, and it was not the good kind of magic, either.  
  
Himawari returns, presently, still smiling her usual benign smile. She seats herself on the other side of the table, and says something in her language. Fay shrugs his shoulders helplessly, and says something in his language. They both fall silent.  
  
The girl sips her tea. Fay stares down at his cooling tea and wishes he could drink it. But even if his vampire blood allowed human food, the tea would not be suitable for drinking, not if she’d been the one to prepare it.  
  
Despite the strange aura that clings to her, surrounding her, Fay likes Himawari. Despite their language barrier, she seems to understand what he’s trying to communicate. She’s not as skilled at teaching as Kurogane was in Yasha’s country, but it’s enough to get by, at least for the few days (and he hopes only a few days) it will take for the others to show up.  
  
Himawari shifts and he knows that she has questions, and perhaps he has questions of his own. But Fay also realizes that they are too similar and neither of them will ask those questions.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“I’m sorry for having to leave you like this every day. It’s terribly rude,” Himawari says cheerfully, apologetically. Her eyes are soft. Its morning, and he knows that she’s getting ready to go to school. He’ll wait for her to come back, just like always.  
  
He beams and says, “Himawari-chan worries too much over me! Go and have a good time at school.”  
  
She matches his hollow smile with one that could rival his. “Of course, Fay-san. Well… I’m off.”  
  
He watches her leave, smiling and waving cheerfully. When the door clicks shut behind him his hand drops almost as fast as his smile.  
  
Fay likes that about Himawari. Even though this Japanese is different from the one spoken in Yasha’s country and different from Kurogane’s, he can still understand the majority of it. And if not, Himawari was expressive enough that he could understand what it was she was trying to say. The problem with Kurogane was that he didn’t say enough and yet managed to say too much, and just the wrong things. The things that Fay knew were correct but he didn’t want to hear.  
  
He shakes his head, to banish the thoughts. He’s alone now. He’ll always be alone. And Kurogane will stay away.  
  
Fay presses his hand against his face and sighs, his shoulders sagging.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“It’s remarkable how much sake doesn’t taste like alcohol,” Fay chirps as Himawari comes into the room, carrying two plates of food—one of which will remain untouched.  
  
Himawari laughs quietly. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I’ve had many kinds of alcohol in my life,” Fay continues, swirling the contents of his sake saucer benignly. “And sake doesn’t even taste like a wine. Hard to believe something like rice can make something so delicious.”  
  
As he says this he eyes the bowl of rice nestled between the crock of Himawari’s elbow and her side. It’s steaming and he shifts his attention back towards the sake. Himawari sets a plate down in front of him and sits across from him at the table.  
  
“It can be sweet or it can be dry,” Fay continues.  
  
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about sake,” Himawari admits, looking sheepish.  
  
Fay laughs, though it sounds just a bit too forced and Himawari’s smile is just a bit too forced, too. And together they look like they’re trying to feign normalcy—as if Fay’s world isn’t breaking apart and Himawari’s isn’t a constant reminder of what is already broken.  
  
“When something’s sweet it takes longer to be absorbed—it sticks to every corner of your mouth and stays there longer,” Fay says as he tips his head back and downs some of the sake. “This is dry, though. It absorbs almost immediately. And it leaves your mouth feeling ‘dry.’”  
  
Himawari nods her head. She sits, waiting. Fay realizes belatedly that she’s waiting for him to eat.  
  
He laughs and picks up the chopsticks and tries to arrange his hand properly. So many times Kurogane’d tried to teach him but—  
  
He really needs to stop thinking about him.  
  
The chopsticks fall from his fingertips limply. They fall into sake dish and the beverage splashes onto his other hand.  
  
Himawari is apologetic, as if it’s all her fault. She leaves to find him a fork.  
  
Fay moves some of his food onto her plate.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“Warm sake is the best on a cold day like this,” Fay tells Himawari as she’s busy with her schoolwork. He leans against the wall, staring up at the ceiling fan, currently not turned on. It’s cold in the house, though the thermostat is turned up. Fay suspects that perhaps it’s because of the company that the room always has a rather eerie chill.  
  
“I’m glad you like it, Fay-san.”  
  
“I’ve decided that if Himawari were a drink, she’d be sweet sake,” he sings to her, but it’s a far cry from the times when he’d teased with his mock-family. Himawari laughs.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because you’re so nice! You and Sakura-chan would get along really well,” Fay chirps before downing the rest of his sake. “Himawari-chan is a sweet girl, her presence lingers no matter where she goes.”  
  
Fay’s surprised. He rarely says things without thinking—despite his appearance, despite his manner of speaking, despite everything, he has always maintained that bit of control. He did not say things without thinking. He says things he doesn’t mean, sure. He says things he later regrets, of course. But he never speaks without thinking.  
  
But as soon as the words leave his mouth and he sees the way Himawari’s fingers grip her pencil almost painfully, he knows.  
  
That moment passes. The grip eases and Himawari jerks her head up, smiling cheerfully at him. But Fay cannot be fooled by these things, because in the end they’re far too similar.  
  
“Fay-san’s too nice to me!”  
  
Fay lowers his eyes and pours himself more sake.  
  
“And me,” he continues, his voice losing its lilt for only half a second. “I’d be dry sake.”  
  
He pauses and can feel Himawari’s eyes on him.  
  
“It doesn’t matter how much you drink dry sake, you don’t realize it’s alcohol. It doesn’t taste like alcohol. And it’s gone too soon, nothing left to taste.”  
  
He forces a laugh.  
  
“Or maybe I’m like Himawari-chan! We can be sweet sake together!”  
  
Himawari’s eyes are soft, apologetic, sympathetic—and all too knowing.  
  
“Yes, maybe.”  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“Himawari-chan?” Fay calls one morning a few days later. It’s been two weeks since he’s been put under Himawari’s care. “Himawari-chan, you’ll be late for school.”  
  
She must have slept in late, he thinks to himself as he moves down the hallway. Himawari wakes up early every morning to prepare for school. She’s always on time. Fay doesn’t sleep often anymore, and he’s watched the clock tick in the morning. She’d always come out at the same time.  
  
Today she isn’t in.  
  
“Himawari-chan?” Fay asks, knocking on the door.  
  
He opens the door just in time for her to slip her shirt on. His one blue eye widens in shock as he takes in the jagged, wretched slashes across her back and suddenly he can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t move. He gasps, despite himself. She whirls around in shock, and Tanpopo flaps around and lands on Fay’s shoulder, chirping in greeting. But Fay can’t get the image of those scars out of his head.  
  
Himawari babbles something that Fay doesn’t quite hear, whether because he can’t understand or because he can’t comprehend, her cheeks turning red and her eyes shifting away. She turns and buttons up her shirt, refusing to look at Fay. Fay closes the door behind him and walks away.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
Those scars stay in his thoughts for days afterwards. There’s a strained silence between the two of them, and Fay is faced with even more questions that bite and claw at the back of his mind, but he knows better than to speak up and ask. There are questions he doesn’t want to answer, either, and those scars for Himawari must be…  
  
The way they looked across her skin—deep, red, painful—is devastatingly reminiscent of another’s. A broad back, bleeding, waiting. Waiting for however long was necessary. Fay isn’t an idiot. He knows how he’d gotten those scars and—  
  
Fay freezes and, for what felt like the hundredth time and very well may have been, brushes those thoughts away. Or perhaps “forces” is a better word to use. In any case, Fay needs to learn to stop thinking about that man. Because it could only end in pain and devastation if he lingers too long and finds it in his heart to forgive him.  
  
The front door opens and Himawari comes home.  
  
“I’m back!”  
  
“Himawari-chan!” Fay sings as he pokes his head out into the room—and promptly freezes.  
  
Kurogane and Sakura are standing there behind Himawari, looking dazed and confused.  
  
“Yuuko-san said they both arrived today.”  
  
Kurogane doesn’t say anything, but his keen eyes spark at her words. But of course he would understand her. Sakura, however, cannot understand a word and looks just as broken and devastated as she had in the last world.  
  
Their eyes lock and she smiles, and despite the pain in the princess’ eyes he can tell she’s happy to see him. And that is the worst kind of feeling in the world, to know that someone missed him.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
That night Kurogane is in the same room as him. He keeps his distance, but his eyes follow Fay’s every move and it’s enough to drive him crazy.  
  
“What is it, Kurogane?”  
  
“How long have you been here?”  
  
Fay pauses as he counts the days. “Sixteen days.”  
  
“Hn. By yourself?”  
  
“I had Himawari-chan.”  
  
“We need to leave this place.”  
  
“We can’t leave without ‘Syaoran’-kun and Mokona.”  
  
“This house,” Kurogane corrects, and his red eyes glare off towards the other end of the room, away from Fay. “This place is dangerous.”  
  
“You’re quick to notice these things for someone who doesn’t know magic, Kurogane,” Fay says, and it’s not clear if it’s an insult or a compliment. Fay doesn’t even know, and he doesn’t actually care (or so he tells himself).  
  
Kurogane’s eyes narrow. “It’s not safe.”  
  
“Himawari-chan is a good girl.”  
  
“That kinda shit doesn’t matter. I don’t care if she’s a fucking saint, this place isn’t good for the princess,” Kurogane snaps and looks angry at the mere thought of Fay questioning Sakura’s safety.  
  
Fay’s eye narrows in turn and in the dying sunlight it glints golden for half a moment. “I would never put Sakura-chan in danger. Himawari-chan… she doesn’t have control over that kind of thing.”  
  
“That makes it worse.”  
  
“Sakura-chan has her luck. She’ll be fine, nothing bad will happen to her,” Fay says confidently. He wonders if he’s really as confident as he sounds.  
  
“And what about you?”  
  
Kurogane stalks over towards him but Fay stands his ground. The taller man stands before him, staring down at him, glaring with those red eyes. Fay thinks of the scars hidden beneath his shirt but banishes the thought away as quickly as they’d come.  
  
Fay’s not sure what it is that Kurogane wants to say or what it is he’s doing, but Fay doesn’t like it. He takes a step back and laughs.  
  
“Kurogane should rest. It’s late.”  
  
“Are you hungry?”  
  
Fay sighs. “No.”  
  
Kurogane doesn’t say anything, but the silence is heavy with his disbelief. Fay turns towards the door.  
  
“I’m going to go look in on Sakura-chan.”  
  
  
\---  
  
  
When he wakes up before dawn the next morning, he slinks out of his room and pads to the kitchen. He’s only slightly surprised to see Himawari sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the wall. She starts when he walks in and she blinks at him.  
  
“Fay-san,” she greets, smiling. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”  
  
“Not at all. I don’t sleep often,” Fay says gently, his expression soft. He wasn’t sure why he felt such sympathy and affection for this girl he’d known for such little time. But somehow, he sees shadows of himself in her—and that should have made him hate her. Hate her with every fiber of his being.  
  
But that strange camaraderie he feels for her…. It won’t disappear.  
  
“Himawari-chan should be sleeping, it’s still dark out,” he reminds her.  
  
Himawari looks out the window, as if she hadn’t really realized it was dark outside. She laughs gently and avoids his eye. The laugh is dry and bitter and scrapes across the surface.  
  
Fay sits down across from her, silently, patiently. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want to say things, and while he’s good at forming words and spouting out excuses, somehow he can’t think of what to say to Himawari. They have a camaraderie, a resemblance in their bad luck. And yet, there was nothing he can say.  
  
They sit in silence.  
  
“Himawari-chan,” Fay says. “You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for.”  
  
“Oh?” Himawari asked, laughing, smiling. “Fay-san’s too kind.”  
  
He recognizes that smile. It’s one he often wears himself. But he’s persistent, and he nods his head.  
  
Tanpopo chirps, perhaps in agreement. Himawari lifts her hand and brushes her hair over her back. To an untrained eye it would have seemed innocent and insignificant. But Fay sees the way the fingers lingered just a bit longer than necessary directly above her scars.  
  
Himawari’s eyes are soft and hooded as she looks down at the table. She tenses the tiniest bit and looks like she’s about to protest, about to say something.  
  
Fay stands up and the chair scrapes across the floor.  
  
“I should check on Sakura-chan,” he says and walks away, leaving Himawari in the dark.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The silence between Kurogane and Fay has been stretching on for days. It isn’t unusual, but still it feels unnatural. Kurogane has grown used to the man’s constant jabbering, constant teasing, constant annoyances. The silence is eerie.  
  
“Hungry?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Hn.”  
  
“You worry too much, Kurogane.”  
  
“I worry enough,” the man grunts. “At least I’m not fearful of everything.”  
  
“No need for insults.”  
  
“It’s not an insult,” Kurogane says bluntly. It’s a fact. They both know it.  
  
Fay swivels his head and stares up at Kurogane, and his icy blue eye gives a warning. Kurogane’s never truly heeded any of his warnings.  
  
He shoves Kurogane down and, caught off guard, he stumbles back a couple feet until the back of his knees hit the the bed. Fay stalks up to him and shoves him again until Kurogane is sprawled out on the bed, glaring up at Fay, his hands clenched as if he is about to punch him.  
  
Fay straddles him, and isn’t sure why. To anyone else, it would be a strangely intimate position. But Fay feels cold and apathetic, and Kurogane’s eyes are smoldering only with his rage.  
  
“Do you like me?”  
  
“No,” the man says bluntly, his red eyes hot with his anger.  
  
“You hate me then.”  
  
“You annoy the fuck out of me, you damn idiot,” Kurogane barks and he lifts a hand as if he is to hit Fay for real this time, but it flops back down next to him on the bed. He looks like he’s about to say more but he keeps silent.  
  
Fay’s eye flickers in the darkness of the room. “Then why did you save me?”  
  
Kurogane is quiet for a long moment, just silently glaring. Fay watches the way his jaw clenches and unclenches and his nostrils flare. And then he’s lifting his hands and shoving at Fay until he can sit up.  
  
“If you don’t know the answer to that,” Kurogane spits out and Fay doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s angry. “Then you really are an idiot.”  
  
Fay scratches his feet along the floor as he walks away from Kurogane, leaving him there.  
  
“Maybe I know the answer,” Fay says, pausing at the door, trying to sound far more confident than he actually was. He turns his head and gives Kurogane an indescribable look. “But,” he continues, “Maybe it’s not me who’s the idiot.”  
  
  
\---  
  
  
The day Syaoran and Mokona arrive, Fay knows because Sakura says thank you and he can understand her words. They’d both blinked in surprise before Fay smiled hollowly. Sakura’s eyes dimmed just the tiniest bit when the realization hit.  
  
“They must be nearby,” she says, and Fay doesn’t remember her voice sounding as hard and uncompromising. And he isn’t sure how he feels about the change. He doesn’t want to believe that Sakura could have changed this profoundly, little Sakura who was so sweet and innocent.  
  
When they emerge from Sakura’s room, Kurogane is waiting outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Sakura almost looks vaguely guilty when she says good morning to him, and Fay knows that she hates keeping secrets—because undoubtedly that’s what she is doing.  
  
This is a house of secrets.  
  
“Eh?” a voice says and Himawari’s head appears from around the corner. “You’re all up early. Good morning.”  
  
“Good morning, Himawari-chan,” Fay says pleasantly.  
  
Himawari pauses. “Your accent is gone.”  
  
“It’s because Mokona must be nearby,” the mage tells her.  
  
Himawari tilts her head and smiles. “That’s great. You can all continue your journey now.”  
  
“That’s right,” Fay says and hates the forced sweetness between the two of them.  
  
Kurogane’s staring at him and Sakura is staring at the ground. He just wants this all to end. Himawari says some more things and then leaves for school, promising to return in the afternoon with Syaoran and Mokona.  
  
Sakura collapses in a chair once Himawari has left, her face miserable and crumbled. Fay goes to her and holds her hand.  
  
“Kurogane,” Fay says, his voice colder when addressing the ninja than when he addresses either of the girls. “Go get Sakura-chan some water.”  
  
He complies and slips away. Fay pats Sakura’s hand.  
  
“It’ll be okay.”  
  
Somehow it’s hard for both of them to believe that.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“You’ll be leaving soon?” Himawari asks.  
  
Kurogane’s not sure why they’re alone together in the kitchen, but he keeps his distance from her. She’s too dangerous, even if she’s a nice girl. The aura around her is almost distressing, and she acts as if it’s not there. He can understand why she would. But she’s too similar to the mage—always smiling, always avoiding questions, always keeping her distance.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, leaning against the wall and watching the way Himawari cleans the dishes in the sink. He gives her a neutral look, his eyes dark.  
  
“It’s for the best,” Himawari says, vaguely.  
  
“Hn.”  
  
“It’s never good to stay in one place for too long when traveling,” Himawari continues. It isn’t hard to hear the undertones in her voice. That it isn’t good for them to stay here, to stay in a house of bad luck.  
  
“No.”  
  
Kurogane shifts and looks like he’s about to leave the kitchen. He pushes off the wall and turns.  
  
As he moves his shirt shifts the tiniest bit and Himawari’s breath hitches as she catches glimpses of some scars. Kurogane pauses and looks at her, before he tugs on his shirt and it returns to its proper position. Himawari looks down and says nothing. Water drips from her wet hands, clenching a wash cloth like it is a lifeline.  
  
Kurogane sighs. “What’s with that look?”  
  
Himawari shakes her head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” She tilts her head back and smiles up at him. “I should finish these dishes, hm?”  
  
“That kinda bulllshit doesn’t work on me,” Kurogane says bluntly, leveling Himawari with a look.  
  
Himawari swallows and returns to the sink, rinsing some dirty plates. She says nothing.  
  
When she looks back over at Kurogane, his eyes are shut and his arms crossed defensively over his chest.  
  
“I did what was necessary,” he says at last, “and I don’t regret getting them.”  
  
Himawari stills and stares at him, her eyes wide.  
  
Kurogane opens his and their eyes lock for half a second before Himawari has to look away.  
  
The man continues, “It’s a small price, compared to what they all went through.”  
  
“I…” she begins and he pauses. But she falls silent and shakes her head.  
  
“It was a necessary thing,” he says at last.  
  
Himawari isn’t even pretending to rinse the dishes anymore. She clenches the tabletop and nods her head a few times, absorbing his words.  
  
“Yes,” she said at last. “…Yes.”  
  
Kurogane doesn’t say anything, but there’s suddenly a world of understanding between them. The ninja sighs and leans against the wall again, closing his eyes, deep in his thoughts. Himawari smiles the tiniest bit and Tanpopo nips at her earlobe gingerly.  
  
On the other side of the wall, just outside the door, Fay bows his head and tries to think of other things. Of all the things he’ll need to do soon and what he’s running from and what all this means. And he hates himself for feeling sympathy towards Kurogane, because sympathy was not something he should have for someone he is supposed to hate.  
  
And he hates himself for not being able to say things like that to reassure Himawari. He doesn’t even know the girl, he has no reason to like her or to want to see her smile. He has Sakura-chan to take care of, and that is enough. But the poor girl in the kitchen—he hates himself for feeling so similar to her. She, in the end, is a better person than he.  
  
  
\---  
  
  
“I hope you have a safe journey,” Himawari says on the last day. They’re in the backyard, the group together and Himawari standing on the porch, looking over at them from across the lawn. She looks a bit sad, but she covers it well with a benign smile. She tilts her head to the side and adds, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t the best of hosts.”  
  
“You were wonderful,” Sakura says kindly, “Thank you, Himawari-san.”  
  
“Mm,” Himawari says with a nod. “Good luck… with everything.”  
  
Somehow Fay doubts that they’ll be having good luck anytime soon, after lying in a house saturated with bad luck. He wonders if perhaps Yuuko knew this—and then suspects that, yes, she did. Because Yuuko knows everything.  
  
Himawari’s eyes lock with Kurogane’s for half a second and she smiles before darting away and smiling at Fay. “Syaoran” is quiet but he nods his thanks to Himawari.  
  
“We’ll miss you!” Mokona declares as she hops up into Himawari’s arms. “You made the best egg rolls!”  
  
“Oh that wasn’t me,” Himawari reminds Mokona for the umpteenth time. “My mom made those before she left on her vacation. I can’t cook.”  
  
Mokona hugs her once, and pats Tanpopo on the head, before hopping back over to her family. Her broken family.  
  
Himawari waves as Mokona’s mouth opens and prepares to take them to the next world. She looks only a bit sad, but she doesn’t show it. Because sadness is not something that group needs. They have enough in stereo.  
  
“Thank you,” Himawari says as they disappear. She drops her hand and stares out at the sun, hugging the horizon and painting the sky a dark red and orange. She breathes deeply, banishing the thoughts of tears. She repeats, “Thank you.”  
  
She walks back to her house.  
  
“Good luck.”


End file.
